Bartleby the Scrivener: A Tale of Wall Street

BENITO CERENO 89
surveying, not without a mixture of admiration, the
colossal form of the negro.
*
See, he waits your question, master,' said the servant.
Thus reminded, Don Benito, nervously averting his
some rebellious
glance, as if shunning, by anticipation,
response, in a. disconcerted voice, thus : spoke
'
Atufal, will you ask '
my pardon now ?
The black was silent.
'
Again, master,' murmured the servant, with bitter
he
upbraiding eyeing his countryman, '
again, master ;
will bend to master yet.'
*
'
Answer,' said Don Benito, still averting his glance,
say but the one word, pardon, and your
be off.'
chains shall
Upon this, the black, slowly raising both arms, let
them lifelessly fall, his links clanking, his head bowed ;
as much as to say, '
No, I am content.'
*
Go,'
emotion.
said Don Benito, with inkept and unknown
Deliberately as he had come, the black obeyed.
'
Excuse me, Don Benito,' said Captain Delano, *
this scene surprises me what means ; it, ? pray '
'
but
It means that that negro alone, of all the band, has
given me peculiar cause of offence. I have put him in
'
I
chains ;
Here he paused ; his hand to his head, as if there were
a swimming there, or a sudden bewilderment of memory
had come over him ; but meeting his servant's kindly
glance seemed reassured, and proceeded :
1
1 could not scourge such a form. But I told him
he must ask my pardon. As yet he has not. At my
command, every two hours he stands before me.'
'
And how long has this been ? '
'
'
Some sixty days.'
And obedient in all else ? And respectful ? '